Ashura no Mono
speaks of conquest and revolution, but what I hear are lies that slip from your tongue twisted to become truth. And you dare walk into my domain demanding obediance? What hubris. Know this child; you exist because I allow it, and you will end because I demand it. Make known your desire, for if fantasy entertains, you may yet live.|Ashura to }} ( ) |birthdate = Unknown |age = Unknown (several thousand years old at least) |gender = Male |height = 230 cm (7'6½") |weight = 303 kg (667 lbs.) |eyes = Unknown |hair = Unknown |aspect = Rage |void = Anahata, the Heart Chakra |affiliation = |previous occupation = |base of operations = |alignment = Lawful Evil}} Ashura no Mono (阿修羅の物, lit. "Enemy of the Gods") is a very old and ancient Hollow said to have originated in the Age of the Gods; an era where the kami themselves were numerous and and walked upon the mortal realm. But when the last gods emerged they warred with one another, and humanity suffered the price. Thousands slain at the whims of these divine spirits, the being who would become Ashura, arose as a spirit corrupted by his own hate, one of the first to roam these lands. What followed was a path of blood built upon the mounds of his victims; every death a stepping stone in the pursuit of his vengeance against the kami! The mantra of these unfavored souls emerged; hunt, kill, consume and evolve, thus this became the destiny of these once mortal beings. Driven by his never-ending hunger for vengeance, Ashura ascended through body and spirit, evolving into a powerful and exceedingly dangerous threat that would have consumed the mortal realm. He warred against his rivals, pitting his followers against his enemies till entire valleys were filled with corpses. He razed whole countries as a testament in his war against the kami. Warriors both alive and dead descended upon him in equal measure to vanquish him, but all fell before his blade. When the mortal realm exhausted its resources to combat the growing threat of spiritual war, the kami intervened sending heavens elite to stomp out the threat, their numbers blanketing the sky. It was hell on earth, a war unlike any other that threatened to rip apart the very world in which they lived. In the end heaven's forced were triumphant and Ashura banished to the realm that would become . Age's past and the kami left the realm in the hands of mortals, but in that world of twilight, the wars between Hollows raged on. Bereft of his vengeance, Ashura retaliated against his brethren continuing the endless cycle of blood and death. For hundreds of years, thousands of years he fought, never resting until even the reason why he had fought so desperately became lost in his own rage. Then when the embers of his fury burned out, all he was left with was daunting realization that all he had fought for, all he had sacrificed no longer had meaning. Appearance Personality History Eons ago during an age where the gods walked among mortal men, the being who would become Ashura was but a simple man. He lived graciously on the lands created by the kami, living a humble but modest life with his wife and two children. The gods had copulated once again and it was joyous occasion; feasts and festivals were celebrated in their honor at the birth of a new god. But the blaze of the crimson sun that burned in the sky that day marked the beginning of dark days to come. Days after the festivities, a sudden illness began to ravage the lands. Men of all kinds, poor and noble were struck as though strangled, the very life snuffed out of them. The man tried to save his family, but mortals were but ants when compared to the squabbles of the gods. He watched through grief stricken eyes while he buried his eldest son, slain by the forces of nature. He wept as his daughter withered away until all that remained was dust. But his wife, had the worst of it all; necrosis had set in. Her death was slow and painful to witness as the flesh of her body decayed and rotted. Even as she begged for death he could only watch helplessly and bury his face in his hands in anguish as he blocked her pained screams. And then in that moment when death claimed her soul, she transformed into a hideous monster, unleashing a ghastly wail that echoed throughout his village, mirroring rallying cries as they descended upon the populous. Fumbling in fright, he desperately tried to flee his home, as his deceased wife released a noxious miasma decaying all that it touched. Gripped by terror he could only watch helplessly as all he knew in life was undone in mere moments. Instinct overcame the paralysis of his life crumbling around him, and his body sprang into action moving on its own accord. As his monstrous wife flew at him, he desperately reached for whatever was on hand, and smashed the demon hag with an iron slab, crushing her head into a bloody smear, before bolting out of his home. For weeks he ran, terror and fear plaguing his waking hours, while nightmares tormented him in his sleep. Each night he could hear the wails of the damned as they surged forward claiming countless lives, moving onward like a terrible force of nature. Soon he could flee no longer, his body weary with exhaustion, his mind collapsing under the weight of the horrors he saw. When the banshee's descended upon him, their claws tearing apart his mortal flesh, their howls ripping what remained of his soul, all of it was drowned out by an overwhelming emotion--- fury! White hot rage blinded him to the pain as he died, thrashing wildly at the hags until his throat grew hoarse before it too was ripped out. As darkness closed in around him, he cried out to the heavens, demanding why had his family suffered so? Had they not lived as the kami decreed? Had they not paid tribute!? Questions turned to outrage as he felt consumed by hatred, felt its intensity burn and blacken his body as his very soul was transformed! With another roar the hags screamed in fright fleeing in terror as he lurched forward in a predators stance. With another bestial roar, tree's uprooted, winds scattered and the earth quaked, for he was a man no longer, but a monster reborn. In his grief, he cast aside his humanity, sacrificed all that he was for the sole purpose of vengeance. The thick stench of ozone filled the air, as rage, pure and uncontrolled radiated outward incinerating all it touched. Freed from the shackles that bound him in human form he arose anew. Number of the Beast Pain. Agonizing, excruciating pain was all that he knew since his birth. He could not think, for the hole in his heart burned with such intensity to drown out anything but the pain. He could not remember for all that awaited him in his consciousness were fragments of a broken man. All he knew was hunger... that and rage. He raged against the kami for their pettiness. He raged against the monsters he killed for their pathetic attempts to end his own. He raged against the heavens for their silence, but most of all he hated the world and its light. Like a distant echo, something hidden beneath the raw instinct to consume, was a burning rage for the injustice inflicted upon fleeting dreams of a life he knew was forever tainted with pain and suffering. He could scarcely recall the details, but the emotions, that raw fury... that he he would never forget. They were more painful then the hunger, and so his thoughts did not dwell on things that could be not understood. So he hunted at night under the welcoming embrace of darkness. His lithe body was nothing more than a shadow, illuminated by blazing serrated eyes that burned with an unholy fury, and fangs sharper than any sword. He stalked his prey with the cunning and guile of master predator, humans fell to his might like blades of grass, their corpses becoming the fuel for his hate. But they did little to satisfy his hunger. The void continued its ever threatening presence to devour him whole. So he continued to hunt. Endlessly, endlessly, killing and consuming larger and more dangerous prey, but nothing could fill the emptiness inside him, and he despaired. It was a vicious cycle of hate and sorrow, that compelled him to seek only the strongest and they too were slain. He soon found himself among a gathering as it were of bone-faced monsters. Perhaps they would be better prey? His black furred body rushed at the nearest one, his fangs severing its head, and he quickly devoured it. The others turned in alarm, but their movements were too sluggish, too slow. He stuck again, and again. Killing them one after another, eating when he could. It was a feast. The icy tendrils of the void slackened when their flesh dripped from his maw. Others began to join, but they too fell before him. It was a glorious slaughter the likes of which lit a wild flame within him. He knows not how long he fought, only that the passage of night and day blurred together serving as nothing more than a distraction to his feast. To his delight the creatures only continued to pour into his killing field, and with renewed strength he pounced upon their succulent bodies and tore them apart. For nearly one-hundred and eight days he fought, killing and consuming and through it fall he found himself changing, evolving. His fangs grew sharper, his power growing with every bit of flesh devoured until that final day when the light of dawn crept its way through the foliage, all that was illuminated was a sick and grisly throne of eviscerated flesh and bone in a field of blood and death. Atop this mound of blood and death stood a creature bearing the shape of man, but with the visage of a beast. Eyes as crimson as his fiery rage, from its gaping mouth words spilled out, cold and visceral like the sound of death. Battle of the Gods For eons the beast ravaged countless civilizations, appearing once their sin and greed reached its zenith, only to devour their empire whole. And time and time again, humanity prayed to the gods for salvation but none would come. For all of their sentries and vanguards were crushed, and they watched. Finally the kami had enough, humanity was to progress and ascend, yet such fate could never bear fruit when destruction became inevitability. So they convened and dispatched one of the younger kami, a god bestowed with the ability to turn dangerous and corrupt powers to the good of humanity to pacify the demon. Under the authority of the heavens, beseeched by the goddess herself, and with weapons given by the other kami, Sanbō-Kōjin descended from the heavenly plains to the mortal world to vanquish the demon. His journey took little time, all he had to do was follow the blazing trail of destruction left in its wake. In little time he confronted the beast, sitting on a macabre throne atop a crested hill. A hill composed entirely out of the dismembered bodies of heavens elite soldiers. The disgusting stench of blood and death filled his nostrils as white hot fury burned within him. The sky above, and the surrounding area were covered in a faint mist, a miasma of decay and corruption seeping outward tainting all it touched. A blazing mandala of light and fire punctuated his arrival, the thick mist parting like oily shadows writhing in the presence of the sun. The God of the Hearth dwarfed the foul beast by an order of magnitude, nevertheless he could feel the immense power of the creature, an oppressive darkness that threatened to consume his flame, but he was not deterred. He spoke and his voice was like the clap of thunder and the hammering of steel, its intonation bent the world to his will, the sky and earth parting before him in reverence. Before his majesty the beast should have kowtowed, but there he stood. Before his light the beast should have cowered in fear, his spirit broken by the illumination of his divinity. But the beast was defiant. Before his words which could bend the will of spirit or mortal, the beast gazed upon him in equal amounts amusement and contempt. Finally after he had spoken, the beast's visceral retort was like a vicious retaliation. The earth cracked and grinded beneath him, the winds howled in agony and the once azure sky was drowned by stormy clouds. Their clash of words were a battle unto itself, yet no victor could be decided by the exchange of words. With no recourse left, Sanbō-Kōjin revealed his divine form and challenged the beast, and thus the battle of the gods began. Sanbō-Kōjin was a being of pure power, wreathed in divine flame it wielded its formidable strength like a master swordsman. Possessed of strength that could fell mountains, a body that no blade could pierce, and the divine energies that surged in his blood granting dominion over creation itself, he surged forward intent in obliterating the beast in a single stroke! To his surprise the beast shielded himself with a monstrous blade of pure darkness that ate at fleeing light. Having bathed in the blood of heavens warriors and consumed of their flesh, the beast had grown more powerful than ever before, and the battle had only begun. Their movements too swift for mortal eye to see, for their battle stretched across the horizon, leaving naught by devastation its wake. The awesome might of their blows, crushed mountains and upturned tranquil sea's, whole villages were annihilated as collateral damage, while entire cities shook from the aftershocks. Like twin comets dancing beneath the heavens, one of crimson and orange light, the other a dark pulsating black with flickering lights like stars, time and time again they clashed. Thousand Year War Eclipse of the Sun Powers & Abilities Trivia *The name "Nrvnsqr" is greek and phonetically spelled and pronounced "Nero" which is a play on words in Germatria by which the letters that compose it add up to 666, the Number of the Beast.